


Void Week

by Rosehip



Series: Strange Luck [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Fantasy Racism, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosehip/pseuds/Rosehip
Summary: Irving is passive-aggressive! Macsen is a brain. Sini is a new teacher and a full mage and she is excellent and can totally handle anything life throws at her... right?





	1. A Tranquil Evening

9:20 Dragon

 

Sini stared at her tea. It usually soothed her nerves, but these days nothing could do that. Her cuticles hurt from being bitten. Her stomach turned itself inside out.  
  
She had been given the position of instructor to students not much younger than herself about two days past her own harrowing. She knew she didn't have their respect. How could she? She was short, an elf, and had been an apprentice alongside a few of the older ones. She'd enjoyed helping her classmates with their assignments but planning an entire morning of lessons a day turned out to be a very different animal.  
  
She'd asked Irving if she could teach the younger children instead. Frankly, Dahlia needed to retire. _She can retire to the Void as far as I care, racist asshole._ He had said that she could have that position when she was ready, especially since nobody else ever wanted it. However, he assured her, teaching younger children had its own challenges that he didn't feel she could handle, just yet.  
  
And then, Owain escaped.  
  
Sini shivered. At least Owain was human. No elf had tried to run since Aneirin; before Sini's time. Anders had been dragged back... how many times, now? Did anyone know? They sent Clancy after Owain. He never used violence as a first option, so there was that.  
  
Owain's got a better chance of returning in one piece than average, Sini thought. This is not getting exercises graded. She self-consciously removed her thumbnail from her teeth again and took a sip of her tea- now cold. She sighed, stretched, and returned to the pile of cheap bark pages marked with her students' attempts at writing Tevene.  
  
She managed to finish them. Tomorrow's lesson clearly needed to focus on pronouns. It looked like quite a few struggled with verb agreement, too. Ugh, she planned to tie new vocabulary into the history of the tower, but it would have to wait.  
  
Her stomach rumbled. Thank goodness they'd started keeping that huge jar of biscuits at the end of the corridor.  
  
She bumped into Owain on the way out of her room. Perhaps that squeak sounded more dignified outside of her head. He shuffled awkwardly as she threw her arms around his middle. “You're back safe! I'm so glad.”  
  
“I always meant to come back,” he said. “I just had something I needed to do.”  
  
“I get that, but I didn't know if anyone who counted wou-” her stomach announced itself, again. “Rg. Will you have tea with me? I mean, if you have a minute? I have a million questions.”  
  
“I imagine so,” he gave a slightly sad half smile. “All right. In your room? Can I help carry?”  
  
“Yeah. My nearest neighbors are either asleep already or off somewhere.” She didn't say “discretely fucking their illicit lovers.” Everyone from the Circle understood that.  
  
Ten minutes later saw them back in Sini's place, a fresh pot of tea and a plate of plain cakes between them. Sini hid all but one glowlight out of deference to those sleeping on the other side of partial walls.  
  
“So, um,” she began. “Not to be rude but they didn't lock you up for this?”  
  
“We're always locked up.” Owain gave a wry smile.  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“I do. No. Clancy and I did some talking and he spoke to Gregoir when we got back. They decided there wouldn't be much point. I tried to go home, you know.” He sighed. He so often looked sad or anxious. “Just to see it once. But you can't really ever do that, can you? You're different, so it isn't home anymore.”  
  
“I wouldn't know. That makes sense.” Sini thought of the alienage. She missed her family so much. More and more, however, the infrequent letters she received sounded like tales from a foreign land. When had she last eaten pigeon? Played a trick on the guards? Stolen candy? For that matter, when was the last time she'd even tasted candy? She often sang her favorite songs under her breath to remember them, at least. Dancing had been part of daily life back home. Nobody danced, here, but nobody read for fun back home. _Good and bad in both places, but they are so, so different_. “What was it like?” she asked.  
  
“I didn't actually make it to my own home. Seeing the normal people outside was enough to tell me that I'm not one of them, anymore. I should have known it. This is home after all, we can only try to figure out how we fit best, right?”  
  
“Hah. Yeah. I'm still working on that one, myself. Teaching is hard! You'd think if you can explain something to one person, a bunch wouldn't be so different, would it? But it is. Everybody's different. There's no way to make sure everyone's always on the same page, but somehow they've got to end up there.”  
  
Owain shifted and picked at his food. “Look, you'll do all right. You always have. I'll always, ah, well I believe in you. You'll get the hang of it, and if you don't, you'll figure something else out.”  
  
“What the void did you get into out there?” He never sounded this certain, or this close to optimistic.  
  
Owain laughed. “A bit of trouble. I made an undead cat. I... won't be doing that again. It was... really, really gross, actually, but I've got things figured out, I think.”  
  
Sini took his hand. “I'm glad. I worry about you.”  
  
“Dunno why. I worry enough for everyone.”  
  
“That's a big responsibility, worrying for everyone. I'll help. Otherwise you won't have any hair left by the time you're twenty five.”  
  
Owain stood, still holding her hand. “Thanks. And thanks for talking. I should probably go. I'm glad I could see you as soon as I got back. You're a good friend.” He bent down to hug her again.  
  
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Sini asked, mid embrace with her face squished to his chest. Wow, he's holding on so hard.  
  
“I'm not sure. I have a lot of things I need to do. And- you'll be busy, too. I'll see you when I see you, I guess.” He kissed the top of her head as he gave a final squeeze and withdrew.  
  
“Ok. Goodnight. I'm glad you're doing better.”  
  
He looked about ready to say something else, but just smiled, said goodnight, and left.  
  
Sini peeked out into the hall. Owain had already gone past the turn. She heard him murmur something softly to someone there and they both headed away, accompanied by the clank of metal. A templar, then.  
  
That made sense. After running, they'd probably keep a good eye on him for a while. Still, she worried. She'd practiced at it while he was gone, and now it felt as if she really would take on some of Owain's anxiety.  
  
Sini headed back to her bed. Tomorrow would be what it would be. She covered the last glowlight and went to bed.


	2. A Normal-ish Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irving is passive-aggressive! Macsen is a brain. Sini is a new teacher and a full mage and she is excellent and can totally handle anything life throws at her... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Macsen drifts into elvhen occasionally. I use the wiki for the most part, and have constructed new words at times out of the ones provided. If it works the way it looks like it does, then Ghilanlan should be "guide lady", or teacher.
> 
> I borrowed Sini and Clancy from Starla-Nell's Bourneshire Boys. It and Strange Luck share a timeline.

Sini grabbed a breakfast of egg sandwich and carried it to the classroom she used in the mornings. She needed a different lesson plan if so many struggled with the material she'd already presented.

In the classroom, she found a note from Irving with her things, and another stack of the books they'd been using lately.

_Sini,_

_I apologize for the lack of warning, but Macsen Surana has been moved unexpectedly from the introductory classes to yours. He has been sneaking looks at your material for some time, now, so the transition may go more smoothly than it often does. If you have any questions about him that he can't answer, come to me. It is for the best if Dahlia has as little to do with him as possible from this time forward. Thank you for your patience,_

_Irving_

Well, that didn't send off any alarms _at all_. Sini rolled her eyes. Reading between the lines, Dahlia despised this child. She thought for a minute. Macsen- the little boy Jowan was practically raising. So yeah. She would.

Irving couldn't be serious, could he? Dahlia never let anyone go until they were around ten or eleven, which was usually about right, if a complete accident on her part. This kid could not be more than seven or eight.

_I am supposed to teach history, languages, and magical theory to an eight-year-old. What the fuck, Irving. You said I wasn't ready for little kids. Ah, well. The timing could be worse._

By the time the students entered, Sini felt mostly ready to face them. She spotted her new pupil right away- Sini was finally taller than someone in her class. He and Jowan came in together. Their body language screamed that they had to work not to link arms. _All right, tough guy, I get it. Big boys don't hold hands._ Only then did she notice how badly he limped, how carefully he held himself. _Shit._

Sini smiled at the pair and offered her hand to Macsen. “Hello. I'm Enchanter Sini. I'll be your instructor in the mornings.”

“Aneth ara, ghilan'lan.”

Well, that was an interesting start. “I speak a lot of languages, but elvish isn't one of them, I'm afraid. Please stick to trade for now.”

“Ir ab- I mean, I'm sorry.” He really did look it.

_Great. I've earned the pity of an injured child._ “It's all right. You probably don't get to use that much.” She dropped her voice. “May I speak to you alone for a second?”

The friends exchanged a silent communication and Jowan took his usual seat. Sini and Macsen went over to her podium. “You're hurt,” Sini asked softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It was the guard-ghosts in the dungeon. They have swords.”

“That they do. How did you come to learn that?”

“I made a dead rat run? And Dahlia was already mad and Shannon was very upset? I zapped him when he grabbed me but I didn't really plan to. He put me down there so Irving and Gregoir could decide what to do with me and I got out and fought the ghosts and Gregoir sent me to you instead of killing me. They said it wasn't really a bad spell.”

_Wait, what? And what is even up with undead animals this week?_ “ It isn't. Misunderstood, but not bad. Either Spirit or Entropy, depending on how dead that rat was. Neither's my specialty.”

“Irving thinks I might be really bad at your magic so he's going to teach me his.”

“Irving? Really?” _Irving, what are you doing? Since when does a First Enchanter have time to teach children?_ “Well, all right. Here are the books you'll need. Just do your best.”

Sini thought she understood. A lot of racists were subtle. Dahlia wasn't. Her ideas about elven intelligence usually just resulted in undeservedly poor marks and a lot of pent up anger. But couple it with a templar's bias against the darker end of magic- yeah, this kid needed out of that class _now,_ ready or not.

Only now the ages in her class ranged by almost a decade.

Nothing for it. “Good morning, class. I have your exercises from yesterday and I think we need to go over a few things...”

The morning went well enough. She separated them into groups and assigned things they needed most to work on.

Sini could see how Dahlia got the impression Jowan did all Macsen's homework. They fell into a rhythm of working together, but it wasn't one sided. The group she'd placed them in automatically split off into two as a result. She could worry about that later.

Of more immediate concern: if she'd thought the older students were irritated with the younger ones before, well, the increased age gap didn't help. Anders in particular shot death glares at the youngest. Anders was decent at everything concerning Tevinter. He probably didn't appreciate the competition. Macsen's pronunciation was impressive for a beginner. _Well, Anders, if you actually gave a shit or weren't always cutting class or full-on running away, you might be a full mage already._

_You could be so good if you actually cared._

At last, lunchtime arrived. Sini's hurried breakfast hadn't seen her through the morning. She flew to the line to get her food, seeing little else until after eating a few bites of buttered turnips. She looked for friends to sit with. She didn't see Owain in his usual spot. She asked Inez if anyone had seen him yet today.

“Ah! Is he back, then? I've not seen the lad at all,” she replied.

“Yeah, I talked to him last night.”

“Well, only so many places to be. Maybe they put him in the kitchen for running off. You know he won't avoid you for long.”

“No, I don't suppose he would.”

Conversation at the table dwindled as everyone tore into baked fish, sprouts, and turnips. The cooks did what they could with the simple foods they had access to. Sini thought back to her conversation last night. Bizarre as it might sound, even though the food in the circle was significantly more plentiful and “better” than alienage food by most standards, she still missed her mom's cooking. It had been full of “weeds”. What meat they had came from animals that would appall everyone here, including Leorah, who'd been a noble's servant and definitely never ate “city rabbit”. Sini's favorite fruit had been the rosehips they filched from the humans' gardens. Not like  _they_ were planning on eating them, after all. If Sini and her family weren't caught in the act, the humans never even noticed. The tartness, bitterness, sharpness, and spice of home cooking, or what Sini thought of as home cooking, called to her across the years.

She might cut a man for a mug of chicory. Or a salad of chicory. There was a great plant that most people she knew were entirely missing out on.

Sini noticed Ser Clancy assembling a meal. He wore leathers rather than his full platemail. Not on duty, then. A good thing, too. He looked bone weary. He frowned. Even his dark hair lacked its usual shine. Dark circles edged his eyes. Actually, did he look a little green?

She had finished her lunch. She polished off her tea in a gulp, excused herself and made her way over to the templar. He headed for the door. Some templars took their food back upstairs with them, but Clancy wasn't usually one of them.

“Ser Clancy?” she called.

He stopped, but shot another glance at the door. “Enchanter Sini. What can I do for you?”

“Are you doing all right?” she asked him.

“Oh! Thank you. I expect I will be, in time. Everything went well.” He smiled, but his posture reminded Sini of a half-empty waterskin. Sheer willpower held him up, right now.

“Last night, you mean?”

“Yes.” His weary smile widened in obvious gratitude. “I'm glad you understand.”

“That you're just doing your job? Of course. Thank you for bringing Owain back safely. Have you seen him, today?”

“No, not since last night. He needs quiet, for now, and time. He'll be all right, soon.”

“What do you mean? He seemed prretty good last night.” She tilted her head in confusion.

“Well, yes, once he felt sure...” Clancy's voice trailed off. In a moment, he resumed in a softer voice. “He asked particularly to talk to you last night. What did you two chat about?”

“His failed trip home and my new role in the Circle. Why do you ask?”

“Ah. I'm sorry, I have to go. Please excuse me.” He set his untouched plate back down and practically bolted for the door.

Sini made no move to follow. _Something is wrong._


	3. Trying to Maintain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Sini tries to muscle through her anxiety, Jowan is sweet, Macsen is hyperactive and creepy by turns, and much is revealed, at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Starla-Nell, who beta'd this for me, and also gave me Sini and Clancy on long-term loan. They're originally from her series, Bourneshire Boys, wherein Cullen and Alistair are children and everything is terrible except the cheese.

Sini wanted to chase Clancy down and demand to know what was going on, but he headed straight upstairs. Mages just didn't go to the templar floor unprovoked.

 

Somebody had to know. Irving would. She hadn't seen him at lunch, so he was probably still stuck in his office doing very un-magical things. It struck her that the better a mage you were, the more time you spent doing anything other than magic.

 

Sini glanced at Clancy's abandoned meal. She hoped he'd send someone to fetch it for him if he couldn't face people right now. She knew the feeling. It gave her an idea, though. She made up a plate and set off for Irving's office.

 

Irving's door stood closed, of course. Edmund the templar loomed outside of it like a very bored statue, until he nodded at Sini as she approached.

 

“Hello Edmund.” Sini nodded in response. “Is Irving in? I didn't see him at lunch and I'm beginning to think he's avoiding us all.” She was kidding, but also not.

 

“He wishes, Ma'am. Politics. He's got company, or I'd send you in.

 

“It was worth trying,” Sini sighed. “Thanks, anyway. “Could you tell him I'd like to speak with him when he's got a second? I'll just leave this here for him.” She set the plate on a side table and left a warming spell on it that would last a little under an hour.

 

Edmund groaned. “That's just not fair, Ma'am. Now I have to look at it.”

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't think about the fact that you're stuck, too.” _Of course I didn't, it was a ploy in the first place, but anyway._ “Do you want me to bring you anything?”

 

He looked about ready to worship at her feet. “Would you really? Neither of us thought this meeting was going to be this huge deal.”

 

Sini fetched Edmund a sandwich and a mug of ale. He appreciated it, and it wouldn't hurt to have Irving's usual escort think well of her.

 

Unfortunately, Sini had unscheduled afternoons. She wandered through the corridors with no plan in mind. Too many people asked her how she was or if she'd seen Owain yet. She clenched her teeth and answered as politely as she could. He'd come back safely, but nobody at all had seen him since. This was as ominous as an uncle with a mustache in a cheap novel about nobles, frankly.

 

It did suggest one obvious answer, though. What if the visit to her had been against orders, and Clancy was meant to take Owain straight to the dungeons and couldn't discuss it without getting in trouble? They did that sometimes, shutting troublemakers away without saying anything about it.

 

A gangly, red-headed adolescent templar guarded the way down to the lower levels.  _Ugh,_ Sini thought.  _I'm twenty-three and he still looks like I could be his mother. Where do they keep finding these children, and why do I have to listen to them?_

 

Still, she smiled as she approached. “Excuse me, Ser, this may sound strange, but I'm looking for a friend of mine. Is anyone down in the cells, right now?”

 

He'd been cursed by the same pale, freckly complexion that Sini herself had, and his blush was immediate and furious. “Er, no, Ma'am. I mean, Enchanter. Nobody's locked down there at the moment. I'm sure they'll ah, turn up.”

 

_Why's he so nervous?_ Then, Sini remembered his name. Shannon. He had been the one to, only yesterday, freak out over a little magic in a tower full of mages and haul a misbehaving child to the dungeon. He must have thought she'd been poking fun before he saw she was serious.

 

Sini excused herself and wandered one more time through the apprentice library and dormitories. That's when she saw it: Owain's bed had been stripped. His trunk stood open and empty.

 

Her head spun. He couldn't just be  _gone._ If he'd been Harrowed, why didn't anyone know? The Harrowing was about as well kept a secret as any in the tower: in other words, not very.

 

They wouldn't have shipped him off to another Circle. If they had, why bring him back at all? If he'd been condemned as a maleficar, why return in that case, either? If Clancy had brought him back but then Greagoir condemned him anyway, why let him see her? Had it been a last request? No, that couldn't be it. Clancy sounded like Owain was fine. Clancy had not been fine at all; but it still hadn't seemed like he was lying.

 

Sini wanted to scream. She would  _not_ do it here. She placidly walked back up to the mages' quarters, smiling at all passers-by.  _I am fine. I am absolutely fine. I am the picture of a person who lives in a world where EVERYTHING IS FINE._ She strolled into her room and calmly, ever so calmly- gathered up her pillow, crawled under the covers with it, and screamed into the muffling warmth.

 

_It's been so long,_ Sini thought, when she could think again.  _It's been so long since I needed to do that._ She and Owain always talked each other down from panics and anxiety. Sini no longer knew how to do that for herself, if she ever had. Back home, she had her siblings and cousins. Here, she had her best friend.

 

She had to admit the flaws in their system. Their whispered venting sessions rarely fixed anything. They still had worries afterward. Still, talking things out left them both functional.

 

For lack of anything else to do, Sini tried to take a nap. It didn't work. She then tried to lose herself in her studies, which worked kind of. Her stomach tied itself in knots, but she managed to focus on history and the planning of magical lab assignments.

 

Irving never sent for her. She tried not to judge him too harshly for that. She didn't manage to eat at dinner, just drank endless cups of tea. Naturally, she didn't sleep that night.

 

*

 

In the morning, Sini planned to cheerfully murder the first person to look at her sideways. This would not, of course, help anything, so she drank more tea, instead.

 

She lectured her students on the history of the Circles in general, and Kinloch hold in particular. Nobody knew how old it was, really, but it was said the Avvars had built it with “some help” from the dwarves. Sini thought that it was far more likely that the dwarves had built the tower with “some help” from the Avvars.

 

_Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptatptaptaptap..._

 

The insistent noise drilled into Sini's soul. She stared daggers around the room until she found the source. Macsen stared at her intently but tapped his chalk against his slate.

 

“Please stop that,” she told him, perhaps a little more strongly than she'd planned.

 

He shot her a completely bewildered look. Jowan pointed at the slate and took the chalk away. Macsen hung his head. The slate was covered in notes as well as a blizzard of chalk dots.

 

“It's all right. Just try to pay attention. Let's continue.” _This time without the noise hammering nails into my skull._

 

Anders took copious notes for once. Egil poked him in the back of the head while Sini happened to be looking. She scowled and he stopped immediately, looking uneasy.

 

She continued. “Magic was illegal in Kordillus Drakon's time, until the second blight, when it became clear that people wouldn't survive without everyone's help, and mages were allowed to fight against the darkspawn. So, the Circles were formed in 1:20 Divine.” A rhythmic, squeaking noise pierced the air around the soft murmur of writing. “The first Circle tower established is in Orlais...” _Squeak squeak squeak._ “Macsen, sit _still!_ ”

 

The child stopped swinging his legs and the creaky chair stopped making that irritating racket. He crossed his ankles, grabbed the seat of the chair, and bit his lips together. _Oof, not disturbing at all,_ Sini thought.

 

She continued, mentioning how the original Ferelden Circle had stood in Denerim, but moved to Kinloch hold in 3:87 Towers. The tower had stood empty for some time before that, as everyone believed it to be cursed or haunted. It was both. She mentioned some of the strange artifacts they'd discovered, and the occasional odd magical happenings. Ordinarily she'd enjoy this part, and have more of a storyteller's air. Today, Sini could only recite. It probably bored everyone to tears. She hoped they were getting it, anyway.

 

She checked in with her students. “Jowan, what year was the Templar Order established?”

 

“Um, if you don't count the early days, then 1:20, Divine, I guess?”

 

“Very good. Anders, who was maintaining Kinloch hold while it was otherwise unoccupied?”

 

“Other than outlaws, a golem left by the dwarves. That creepy thing is still around, you know. Give me a hard one next time, won't you?”

 

_You asked for it._ Sini continued. “Macsen, what year did the Circle move to Kinloch hold?”

 

“I- I'm not sure, Hahren.”

 

“I just said, think back.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Fine. We'll talk after class. Chloe, when did the lyrium trade begin with...”

 

And on it went. The morning felt interminable. Perhaps it might have been better to stay in bed, but a mage could never afford to appear flaky or unreliable. Flaky and unreliable might be dangerous.

 

One task remained after she released the students to the midday meal. Sini turned to Macsen, who prepared to slink out the door. He must have hoped she'd forget. He might have moved quickly enough if Jowan hadn't loomed nearby, preventing a clean escape.

 

Despite everything, a smile tugged at her lips. “You're not in trouble,” she said.

 

“I'm not?!”

 

“That's new,” said Jowan, with a gentle expression. He rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. I'll be just outside, all right?”

 

Macsen nodded, and regarded Sini through the corner of his eyes, as if she was a mabari and he didn't know whether or not she was friendly.

 

Sini sat down so she'd be closer to his level. “I'm not sure what to do, to be honest. Irving thinks you're ready for this class, but I'm not sure he's right.”

 

“Don't make me go back to Dahlia! Please!” Macsen clutched his bookbag to his chest. “She hates me.”

 

“I know. She hated me, too. It isn't your fault. The thing is, though, that your work yesterday was very good, but today you had a hard time paying attention, didn't you?”

 

“I paid attention!”

 

“But when I asked you a question, you didn't know the answer even though I had _just_ said it.”

 

“But that was after-” Macsen's voice trailed off.

 

“That was after what?”

 

He looked at the floor.

 

“You're not in trouble, really. It was after what?”

 

“It was after I stopped listening to try to sit still better. I mean not really on purpose. But I tried to be quiet and it was hard to pay attention after that.”

 

“What.”

 

“When I'm listening, I move. I don't mean to. People tell me I'm making noise. Jowan tries to tell me so I don't get in trouble, but we haven't been in the same class for a long time.”

 

“So you're telling me that you were listening until I told you to be quiet and then you stopped listening in favor of holding still because holding still takes all your brainpower?”

 

It sounded like bullshit to Sini, but Macsen sighed into a smile as his shoulders dropped half an inch. “Yes! Exactly! It's very hard.”

 

“All right, I want to test this.” Sini rattled off a few more questions, especially from times when the noise had been annoying her. He had indeed caught much of it. But how was she going to deal with constant creaks and taps?!

 

“So, what in the world did you do in Dahlia's class?” Sini asked.

 

“Stood in the corner a lot.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.” Sini took a breath. “Maybe... how about if we let you walk around if you need to? How does that sound?”

 

“Good! I can't believe you're not mad.”

 

“I have way bigger things to worry about right now than a kid with too much energy. Just don't be annoying on purpose and it's fine.”

 

“Ma nuvenin. Can I ask a question?”:

 

Sini bit her tongue before she could respond with _I don't know, try it and see._ “Sure.”

 

“Was Dahlia mean to you, too?”

 

“Yes, she was. Not as mean to me as some. She used to tie kids to their chairs if they were like you.” _And the world does not need more nervous wrecks of mages._

 

“Whoa. She said she would, but never did.”

 

“Yeah, I think Irving told her not to. Anyway we'll figure it out. Go get lunch.”

 

“Ma serannas! Er, thank you!” He darted for the door and to the lurking shadow of Jowan, who waited for him. Macsen still had a bit of a limp.

 

*

 

Sini's stomach felt queasy but she _had_ to manage food. Luckily, the midday meal featured a mild soup with lentils and vegetables. It might not be her favorite kind of food, but at least she could face eating it.

 

Everyone avoided her. Oh, they _tried_ to be subtle about it, but every now and then someone would shoot her a pitying look and Inez almost came to sit down with her but then turned around to join Wynne, who choked on her drink in surprise.

 

It figured. Sini realized she'd been scowling and tried to relax.

 

She finished her food in silence. She didn't know what to do with herself after that. All she wanted to do was go to bed. Something was wrong, and as usual, she was powerless to do anything about it. Not every problem could be solved by letting a child pace.

 

But she couldn't just go to bed. She had to at least look stable. Were the templars looking at her more than usual? She couldn't say. She always felt like they stared at her too much. More than most. She was a pretty, tiny elf with shiny, auburn hair. It had drawbacks.

 

Well. Life was what it was. You had to keep living it, whatever came. Sini took several deep breaths. She meditated as she'd been taught years ago, and allowed her mind to still as the last of the bustle calmed around her. The meal wound down and the staff cleaned up after the departing mages and templars. Sini noticed, and then discarded the awareness of each sound.

 

At last, she felt able to persist. She would go, prepare some practical assignments for the class, tomorrow. They'd do some herbalism, or, wait, no- experiment with minerals. She could use the activity, and perhaps her students might enjoy something different. She would pick up some samples of stones from the stockroom, and they could perform a few small spells on them to see what happened. Of course, the magical properties of assorted materials were well documented, but seeing things for yourself was always better.

 

Yes. Sini could do this. When you didn't know what else to do, choosing one task to do well might be the way forward.

 

She hurried down past the classrooms with their always open doors, past Irving's office with the perpetually closed one, past the upper library and the guest wing, when she heard a familiar voice- the voice she most wanted to hear in the world.

 

Sini rushed the rest of the way to the stockroom near the stairs, towards the sound.

 

“Owain? Is that you? Are you back?”

 

His familiar, tall, awkward shape came into view as she lunged round the corner. She skidded to a stop next to him. Several things happened at once.

 

She took his hand. It felt so still in hers. The mage Owain had been speaking to widened his eyes in shock and visibly braced himself instantly after. Owain looked down at her. His forehead bore a livid, fresh sunburst brand.

 

“...no,” Sini whispered. “They can't have.”

 

“I apologize,” said Owain, in the cold, smooth tones tranquil mages used. “I wanted to tell you, but it proved too difficult.”

 

Sini had known something was wrong. She had thought of every possibility except the one she dreaded the most. She left that one in the back of her mind, unacknowledged. She should have known, once every other possibility had been examined and discarded, what the truth was.

 

It hurt, so much.

 

“I'm sorry, I- I can't- excuse me.” Sini slipped her hand from his with no resistance at all, and ran.

 

Her feet took her back to the classroom, where she slammed the door shut because fuck the templars, anyway. She needed to process.

 

She needed to _grieve_.

 

Sini pressed her back against the heavy wood of the door and the tears came at last. She fumbled for a handkerchief and buried her face in it. After weeks of her friend being missing, after two days of uncertainty, and after less than a minute of dreadful knowledge, Sini allowed her heart to break.

 

After what might have been a minute or five or fifteen, she felt a gentle pressure on her arm.

 

Sini bounced with a half squeak, half hiccup. She looked down to see Jowan biting his lip and withdrawing his hand like she'd burned him.

 

“Oh!” She gasped. “I'm s-sorry. I didn't. Um. I didn't think anyone would be here.”

 

He blushed. “We were going over the history from this morning. It's what I'm best at. Our tutors said it was fine.”

 

She looked over to the desk where Macsen sat, of course, with a book and a roll of bark pages. He looked at her with wide eyes, like he didn't quite understand.

 

“Grownups are sad too, sometimes.” she told him, and sniffled again.

 

“I'm sorry,” said Jowan, reaching for her arm, again. “What happened? Can we help?”

 

Nobody can help,” she sighed. They may as well hear it from her. The gossip mill would turn and they'd find out, regardless. “There's nothing to be done. They've tranquiled my best friend.”

 

Jowan's grip tightened. “That's terrible! I'm sorry.”

 

That started her tears up again. She blew her nose before thanking him. He hesitated a moment longer before hugging her.

 

_Screw professionalism, I do need a hug._ After a bit, she felt another small arm wrap around her.

 

“Thanks, you two,” Sini murmured when she felt like speaking again.

 

“I don't know what I would do,” said Jowan. “I'm just... just sorry.”

 

“I'm sorry you're sad,” whispered Macsen. “I really am. And if I can help I want to, but I don't really understand.”

 

“You don't?” asked Jowan. “You know the tranquil, don't you? They're the ones with branded foreheads who do so much of the work.”

 

“The ones with cloaks over their souls?”

 

“I'm sorry, what?” asked Sini.

 

“Am I wrong?” Macsen looked between them. “The ones who have a sun on their heads until it fades? I can see their souls, but it's like there's the sky singing between us, and it's a little harder. Does it hurt them when they put the blue around them?”

 

“Nobody knows if it does,” murmured Sini, fascinated and horrified.

 

“They probably know.”

 

Sini felt shock and remorse that it seemed she'd been thinking of the tranquil as part of _nobody._ “Yes, I guess. But they're not allowed to tell us.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jowan squeezed Macsen's shoulder and he whispered “You're being creepy again.”

 

“No, it's all right,” Sini said. “Macsen, you mean that you can feel people's souls and the tranquil's souls are just... muffled?”

 

“Yes. That's what it's like. They're like everybody else except for that. If they gave your friend a sun mark, he's still your friend, right?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, he is. Thanks, you guys. I should talk to him.”

 

 


End file.
